Crokus gestured desperately. This was it, this was when he'd find out where she stood as far as he was concerned. He held his breath and gestured again.

With a backward glance towards the patio, Challice rose and ran to him.

As she came close she squinted at him. 'Gorlas? Is that you? I've been waiting all night!'

Crokus froze. Then, without thinking, he lunged forward and clasped a hand over her mouth, his other arm encircling her waist. Challice squealed, trying to bite his palm, and struggled against him, but he dragged her into the darkness of the garden. Now what? he wondered.

Circle Breaker leaned against the marble pillar just inside the estate's main chamber. Behind him guests milled around Turban Orr's body, arguing loudly and voicing empty threats. The air hung heavy over the garden, smelling of blood.

He wiped at his eyes, trying to calm his heart. It's over. Queen of Dreams, I'm done. 1 can rest now. Finally rest. He straightened slowly, taking a deep breath, adjusted his sword belt and glanced around. Captain Stillis was nowhere in sight, and the chamber was almost empty except for a knot of servants outside the kitchen entrance. Lady Simtal was still missing, and confusion now seeped into the void of her absence.

Circle Breaker looked one last time at the guests in the garden, then he made his way to the doors. As he passed a long table on which sat the remnants of pastries and puddings, he heard faint snoring. Another step forward brought him to the table's end and into view the small round man seated in a plush antique chair. The smeared cherub mask hid the man's face, but Circle Breaker could see the closed eyes, and the nasal drone that matched the rise and fall of his chest was loud and steady.

The guardsman hesitated. Then, shaking his head, he moved on. Beyond the gates now within sight waited the streets of Darujhistan, and freedom. Now that he'd begun his first steps on that path, he would let nothing deter him.

I've done my part. Just another nameless stranger who couldn't run from the face of tyranny. Dear Hood, take the man's shrivelled soul – his dreams are over, ended by an assassin's whim. As for my own soul, well, you shall have to wait a while longer.

He passed through the gates, welcoming at last the smile that came unbidden to his mouth.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Ravens! Great Ravens!

Your damning cawls deride

histories sweeping beneath

your blackened wings –

Shatter the day

O flags of night,

rend with shadows

this innocent light

Ravens! Great Ravens!

Your drumming clouds arrive

swoop'd sudden sheer,

hissing travails

from no place

t' the other –

Shatter the day,

O flags of night,

rend with shadows

this innocent light

Ravens! Great Ravens!

Your beaks clatter open

disgorging the sweat

of straining dismay

the clack of bones

promised this day –

I've seen the sheen

of your eyes the laughter